It Didn't Matter...
...that the next day was a school day. I had boycotted all my classes. Many SF Bay Area college and university students had taken part in the drill to do the same. And while we struck, Apollo 13 astronauts were lorst into space.
That morning heard a one time, last minute official public announcement on KSAN-FM that Bill Graham was throwing a midweek special.
About 5000 people emerged from out of the shadows and ponied-up the $5.50 GA charge. This is that show.
This entire show appeals in that it was one of those shows when the band sits 'round the fire and moves as it wishes. No pressure, no hurry, no worry. Just get up and play and have fun.
In 1970, the Grateful Dead was the kind of band that Bill Graham could ask to slip a little show in here and there to help with the bottom line.
Was home well before 6
a.m. It didn't matter anyway. I had no classes that day, or the next. I slept until
2:30 p.m. Thursday.
And the killer portion of this whole episode was that I had previously attended all the GD's shows at Fillmore West in the previous seven days.
Think of sleep. Pure, unfettered sleep while hearing the echoes of those proverbial amplifiers ringing ringing ringing
But on this particular night I was traveling solo and had to hitchhike home across the Bay Bridge at
3:17 a.m. and by providence caught a ride from a motorist who spoke no English. He saw me running and attempted to slow down. I had to sprint 300 yards up an on-ramp and out onto the freeway in order to catch and convince this driver that he was lost enough for me to guide him to whence he needed to go. That it was coincidental that he was going to the Hayward Hills is pure, unadulterated serendipity.
He spoke no English but kept asking simultaneously where he was and where he wanted to go in the most endearingly broken English. I laughingly instructed him on how to get back to where he wanted to be and he deposited me to where I wanted to go.
It totally sums up any one night in 1970 GD history.